


momentum

by loveknives



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Very Brief Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveknives/pseuds/loveknives
Summary: Sylvanas ruminates on a few things.





	momentum

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of feelings after this week's War of the Thorns scenario, and the cutscene. A lot. Had to get out a few words on it. Spoilers if you haven't done it yet.

You have lost momentum.

The Horde airship cuts through the air slowly, but without wear. Beneath, the repugnant smell of Tirisfal: the efforts of your failed army, brought back each time as bones and sinew no longer recognizable; the plague, a heady scent that has no comparison other than rot and mold; and, of course, the rest of your Forsaken and their allies fleeing from the carnage of the Alliance.

Carnage. Was it that? Despite everything, from this height she could admire the path they'd cut through to the heart of her domain. And it was just that: a path, where the Undercity now was little more than a mass of fetid meat and stone. Undoubtedly they'd made quick escape, the little lion and his entourage of cubs snarling behind him. As if he were the true leader of their pride, shining despite his dulled and bloodied armor. If the circumstances were different, you might have called it cute: a boy playing at king. But this was war, and it was just another irritation -- little living fools clawing open Azeroth for scraps and fortresses until there was nothing left to conquer.

 

If you could feel it, maybe you would feel sick at how righteous he was. No, not _sick_ ; disgust was better, for it wasn't an illness. The illness was in those alive, the _hopeful_ ones. The ones who charged forward despite their own fragility. Did they not know the sway she had over them once they passed?

And yet, for all of their faults they are still in motion. Plans and machinations for a brighter future, for the prosperity of their kind. You, meanwhile, are a stagnant and bloated corpse lost in the sea, heavy with water and your own failures. In the Undercity, in Stormheim, on the edge of Arthas' blade. The second steel ran you through, the Lich King had stopped time with more precision than any mage could ever aspire for.

Your fingers curl together. That damned kaldorei's words. They cut uncomfortable close, made you think back on this again and again. But what else had you left but to fall into this consumption? Eternal life long a removed option, never-ending undeath the same. If you hated them, at least you had something to push you onward. Movement, even into destruction. Let the entire world burn and the Forsaken could still rise -- parasites attached to the living, and Azeroth would crawl with corpses until they all fell apart. Piles of skeletons, viscera, blood dyeing the dirt. It was a last-ditch effort, this war. Even if it ended your own people, what did it matter?

 

Nothing would reclaim what was robbed from you, so long ago, and nothing would soothe the cold nothingness of your body and heart. You could be a puppeteer, pulling their strings so that they growled, notched arrows in your face. They could dance for years, and it would mean nothing. None of this had a real meaning anymore -- you would never say it, could not survive your body being torn asunder if you dared it. You were the only one without anything real left to lose. The Horde that surrounded you? Families and warm bodies, hearts beating. Children running around their legs and carrying their own children in years to come. But they, too, would all pass, and you could continue on your children's heritage.

But for now, it mattered not. You were stuck, a statue waiting too high up in the air to do little more than observe. Eternally carved from material so cold as to trick others into thinking you marble, and the world around you in motion.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, feel free to leave a kudo/comment! All is greatly appreciated! <3


End file.
